


Deliria

by shutuplizzie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Delirium au, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Revolution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25835899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutuplizzie/pseuds/shutuplizzie
Summary: "The most dangerous sicknesses are those that make us believe that we are well."(Or: In a world where love is considered to be the most deadly disease of all, sometimes the Cure is not the answer.)
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu, Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Kita Shinsuke/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Delirium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mandsnuds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandsnuds/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This fanfiction was heavily inspired by the Delirium trilogy, by Lauren Oliver. I'll be explaining everything on the fic, so no worries if you don't know the plot or anything about it!  
> Every chapter will be about a different dynamic - this one will focus on AtsuKita.  
> Also, this chapter has a specific trigger warning for mentions of child abuse! Nothing explicit but it’s there.

Amor Deliria Nervosa. 

It literally translates into Love Delirium Nervous. It is considered the most deadly disease of all.

That’s what Kita Shinsuke has learned for the last 17 years. It was taught him by every single adult that he ever met, beside his parents. They weren’t there anymore. Even his grandma, although he never fell a lot of honesty coming from her in this regard, said it was for the best.

And he used to agree, with everything that he was ever told. It was easier, and it wasn’t like he had anything to lose.

(Until he met _him_.)

The world they lived in was brand new. It was divided by BADN (Before Amor Deliria Nervosa) and AADN (After Amor Deliria Nervosa) and was taught religiously at his school. At every school, to be fair. 

They talked about the “dark days”, where society was lost to lust and violence and absolutely nothing made sense, everyone too absorbed by the Deliria.

(He felt the same, when he thought about it. There was life before and after Miya Atsumu.)

Without love to get in the way, society was now peaceful. Everything worked as it should. That all happened because they found the Cure against the Deliria. It was a mandatory procedure, that resulted in the patient being incapable of love or any strong emotions, in general. It only works - unfortunately, they would say - on those over eighteen, so younger people are subjected to segregation and curfews.

‘Love’ was a very weird concept, at first, for him to understand. Kita lived in a farm, alongside both his parents, from a very young age, and they were everything he knew for a very long time. There wasn’t a word for the way his parents treated him, but he knew it was intense. 

It took him a very long time for him to realize that what he knew for the first years of his life were everything, but love. Once he was rescued, after a colleague of his father met him with a purple eye and a broken arm, people told him repeatedly that that was the consequences of love. 

It was because his father felt love that he hit him, when he was five, and didn’t stop. It was because his mother felt love that she refused to treat him after, saying he probably deserved it. It was because they felt love for each other that they refused to live, refused a chance to have a second life, where they could be Cured, refused to care for their son and instead killed themselves.

(It took him, oh, so many years, for him to realize that not every strong emotion was love. It took him years to know that the Cure had numerous side-effects, most people looking like they were detached from the rest of the world, but there were systems that reacted strongly to the Cure and, like his parents, would slowly go insane.

It took him way too many years for him to know a touch that was kind.

It took him 17 years, almost eighteen, almost too late, for him to meet a boy with dark hair and a bright smile, that would show him what love really was. And it felt like it was worth the wait.)

After he left the farm, he went to live in the city with his grandmother, who was just like everyone else. Normal. Kind of empty, but that was better. That was safe. And it was living in this small town that he could reach his full potential - he was smart and hardworking, so it wasn’t hard to do well in school. He was polite enough to gain attention from his teachers, and his classmates liked him in general.

He did everything so systematically that once a teacher told him that it felt like he was already Cured. He could only feel relief.

As he got older, he noticed that not everyone felt like this was a perfect world. Not everyone felt assured by the existence of a cure nor counted the days until their eighteenth birthday. It wasn’t like people could openly protest against it, that he caught on very quickly, but it felt outworldly to Kita that anyone would oppose this. How could anyone wish for anything other than peace and quiet?

But, at least amongst his peers, that was what he could perceive. He was able to read people very well, it was a skill that he had to learn from a very young age, so it came to a surprise to him when he saw the discontentment in his underclassman. Suna was very rational, very much like him in this sense, but it was tutoring him that he noticed that the other did not trust their society as much as Kita did.

“Kita-san,” Suna once asked, whispering as if he didn’t want anyone but Kita to listen, “do you ever wonder what would be like, to love?”

“No, I don’t,” he answered, not hesitating for a single moment. He knew how it felt to be loved, he knew how it hurt, he knew the reason for it to be a disease.

“Oh,” Suna said, lowering his head and apparently forgetting about it. 

Until he didn’t.

Until Kita was in his second year and Suna finally got into high school. Until new people moved to their uneventful town. Until Suna came to their shared lunch table, his eyes almost shining as he talked about the twins that moved in recently, that were now in his class. He asked if the boys could sit with them, because they didn’t know anyone else, and Kita couldn’t find a good apology to decline his friend’s request.

(That was when he met Miya Atsumu.

Looking back, it felt like it should’ve meant something. Something other than fear for his friend and how his eyes were sparkling, already too close to insanity to Kita’s liking.)

In their small school, the arrival of the twins was like a big event, last seen when Kita himself came to their city. It was unusual for people to leave their community, after they discovered the Deliria. Although the government treated the disease very seriously, there was this unspoken fear in smaller towns, that it wasn’t really _that_ controlled everywhere. Most people were afraid to move out, afraid of contamination outside their hometowns.

In theory, every adult in their society already went through the surgery. But there were things, especially in small towns like his, that the government didn’t have to say for everyone to know.

The government would never say anything, but when he was eight years old and new to the city, everyone knew that he was physically abused by his parents, who were contaminated with the Deliria.

The government would never say anything, but when the owner of the supermarket suddenly went missing and never came back, everyone knew that she was too affectionate with her baby daughter.

The government would never say anything, but there were rebels out there. People who didn’t agree with the Cure, who didn’t think that was anything to be cured of. The government would never say anything, but everybody knew that they were out there. 

Invalids, they were called. People who choose not to be cured as society demands. That automatically made them criminals - most of them living in the wilds. Some of them, however, were undercover resisters living in cities.

(He and Atsumu were hiding behind Kita’s house, way too close even though it was already dark enough for them not to be seen. They were doing nothing wrong, but you could never be sure, especially in small towns. 

Atsumu had scraped his knee. He was running, said that he felt _free_ \- such a dangerous word - doing so, until he tripped and fell. Atsumu ignored the fleeting thought of holding his hand, but guided him to his home to treat his wound nonetheless. 

As Kita tended to his bruised knee, Atsumu was talking, always telling stories, always talking about Osamu and rambling with way too much _passion_ , to a point that it was borderline illegal. Kita was not telling him to shut up anymore, at that point he could only hope that no adult would ever hear it.

They were talking normally until Atsumu made a joke about the delirium. It could be harmless enough, he certainly said worse things normally and Kita would usually ignore it, but for some reason, he didn’t.

“Keep making these jokes and someday people will think that you’re an invalid.”

“Kita-san,” Atsumu said, way too softly, way too fast. “Some of us may find this term offensive, you can say uncured.” As he realized what he said, he shut his mouth, just as fast as he opened it.

They stared at each other. It felt like hours. Kita knew that his face was impassive, but his hand was still in Atsumu’s knee. He couldn’t see much of the other boy, but he could see his eyes, and they were shining - not like Suna’s eyes on the day that he first met the Miyas, but in absolute fear.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he said, too quiet, because of course Kita knew what he was talking about, could read between the lines, and his heart clenched against his will. 

“I won’t,” he said back, voice firm, and that was when he finally knew.)

Uncured people run the risk of contracting Deliria. It’s quite common for teenagers to go through some stage of it, although no one really talks about it. The government does its best to try and control this, segregating boys and girls in their day to day lives. They can only interact freely when they receive the Cure.

Unfortunately for them, Kita muses, they do not take LGBT people into consideration. And it makes sense: the society that they live in should not have to worry about desire in any form, because it is a clear sign of delirium. And if they did consider it, what would be the answer? Isolate every single child until they are of age?

People still get married, of course. They have to, to have children, and to promote a proper and orderly community. However, a person’s marriage partner - referred to as a pair -, is a match that the government find to be fitting. There is a process known as Evaluations, that basically give you a score, that will decide what college you will attend, who you will marry and how much and money you will make. After this they have all planned out for you: where you will live, how many children you will have, probably when you will die as well.

They rate you from 1 to 10. As he was in his last year of high school, it wouldn’t be too hard for Kita to score a solid 10. 

The questions were general enough. What is your favorite color? What is your favorite book about? They seemed innocent, but Kita was wise enough to know that they were not looking for honest answers. They wanted someone who would fit into their standard, and he could - if he wanted to.

(For a very long time, it was everything he wanted.

But then he met Atsumu. Who was anything but standard, anything but normal, anything but orderly. 

He was extraordinary).

The day of the evaluation was supposed to be the most important day of his life. His grandmother was always very serene, but on the day that he was supposed to go, she put a hand on his shoulder - probably the equivalent of a hug to a Cured person - and just said “do his best.”

As he was peacefully walking to the government building, however, he watched as two boys pretended not to run in his direction - and failed miserably. Atsumu was holding his brother’s wrist, pulling his brother as Osamu had a clear scowl on his face.

As they got closer - Kita was polite enough to stop walking -, Atsumu was now panting, just staring at him. Osamu greeted him. Atsumu kept staring.

“Do you have something to say, Atsumu?”

He left his trance, shaking his head and finally letting his twin’s wrist go. “Yeah, uhm,” Kita thought he was staring before, but now it was like the other boy was trying to see his soul. “Good luck today?”

Osamu snorted and Kita tried very hard not to show a smile.

(There were moments like this, where Kita felt like it took an extreme amount of strength and self control not to show reaction to Atsumu’s antics.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming, because at first, Atsumu was nothing more than strange. But as they became colleagues and, later, friends, he felt like everything Atsumu did seemed outworldly, always different from everyone else.

For the first time, different wasn’t bad.

It was the way Atsumu smiled, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It was the way he would talk about the future, hope in his tone, as if others wouldn’t decide for him. It was the way that he bickered with his brother, but in every single punch you could almost see it, the Deliria, especially when the twins thought no one was looking.

He was thinking about it as he entered the government facility to do his Evaluations. It wouldn’t be too hard for Kita to score a solid 10, but as he thought about Atsumu, and being shipped away to Tokyo if he got a perfect score, he thought ‘I don’t wanna let him go’ as he purposefully messed up some of the questions.

He scored a decent 8.)

The Cure has numerous side-effects, even on the successful cases. The most prominent one is the inability to dream, alongside the suppression of emotions. When you are Cured, you simply lose the ability to dream - that’s how people primarily discover that their respective operation was unsuccessful. 

That, obviously, was not the case for the uncured. Teenagers were able to caught feelings for someone very easily, as Kita was struggling to accept, and could also dream without any problem. He knew that he dreamed less than the average teenager - he wasn’t a very imaginative person -, and most times he did, ‘nightmare’ was a better word to define what happened as he slept.

He never bothered to think about it very much, but maybe he should have.

The real problem started when the nightmares suddenly became dreams.

(It started harmless enough, a simple dream where he would be hanging out after school at Suna’s house, alongside the twins. After that was the same thing, but at the Miya’s household, that he never actually visited so it looked suspiciously like his own childhood home.

After that, they met at the park, and then at the beach, and when they met at one coffee shop it was only him and Atsumu. Just talking, nothing more.

At first.

Until they were way too close, this one time, just sitting next to each other. Kita forced himself awake the first time Atsumu’s hand brushed at his arm. The next time he made an effort to keep sleeping.

After that, they were never in public places and Osamu and Suna were nowhere to be seen. Things started to escalate when Kita finally allowed Atsumu to hold his hand.

If he was as wise as he thought he was, that was probably the line he didn’t want to cross.

When Atsumu told him about his association with the rebels, however, he felt like there was no longer a line to cross.)

Kita considered himself lucky to have mastered the art of showing absolutely no emotion. Before Miya Atsumu, he felt like there was no need for him to get the Cure as he got older - he already felt nothing. It was better than being afraid, better than being sad or hurt, anyways.

Except, he failed to notice, some emotions felt _good_. This one specific time Atsumu was telling an embarrassing story about Osamu of when they were younger, and maybe he was exaggerating to embarrass his twin in front of Suna, but Kita laughed the loudest and Atumu just. Stared at him. Like he was looking at the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Things calmed down after this - Osamu was clearly embarrassed and he and Suna kept stealing glances -, but for the rest of the afternoon Atsumu was quiet, refusing to look at him, his ears clearly burning red. And Kita didn’t consider himself to be a sad person before, but for the first time, he felt undoubtedly, surely, _happy_.

(It took them a while, Kita still having doubts and fears and Atsumu being unusually unsure about himself, but they had their first kiss at Kita’s bedroom, at Kita’s bed.

Kita was sitting in his bed while Atsumu was sprawled on the ground, talking about absolutely nothing. As Atsumu made a funny anecdote about his math teacher, Kita let one of his rare smiles, and suddenly on top of him, pinning him to the bed, kissing him. Hard.

He showed absolutely no reaction, being shocked - he knew that Atsumu liked him, he was too obvious, but he wasn’t expect such a spontaneous and bold move from the younger boy -, and Atsumu probably misinterpreted his response because one second he was being kissed like the other boy’s life depended on it, and the other Atsumu let him go, still sitting next to him, trembling.

With the messy hair, dilated pupils and face as red as a tomato, he was the most beautiful boy that Kita has ever seen.

He was starting to apologize, still trembling and stuttering, something along the lines of ‘Kita-san I’m so sorry, fuck, I didn’t know what I was thinking, you are probably disgusted, I’m so fucking sorry-’ when Kita held Atsumu’s jacket, hand also trembling, and pushed him to lie down.

Before the other boy could understand what was going on, Kita was on top of him, kissing him - no, that wasn’t the word. Shinsuke Kita was devouring Miya Atsumu. He didn’t know what he was doing at all, but Atsumu’s hands were in his waist, leaving bruises for days to come, and he was moaning softly, so he was probably doing something right.

It felt… erotic, to kiss the boy in the same bed that he had countless dreams of doing just that. Sometimes more. Sometimes Kita would wake up in the middle of the night, sweating like crazy and dick hard in his boxers, and he would go take a shower and get rid of his problems with his own hands, when all he wanted was Atsumu’s mouth.

In his haze, he may have said a part of this outloud, because Atsumu was panting on his year, saying, “Don’t worry, senpai, we have time.”

It was very easy to understand why dreams were so dangerous.)

At school they only learned about the world after Amor Deliria Nervosa. There were a few things about the world before, and all of them were bad. They were only used in history classes to talk about how they lived in a better society. Ever since he was very young Kita could understand what that was, but didn’t had a word for it - he discovered it later: propaganda.

It started when the president from that time, alongside with scientists from his party, identified love as a disease. It was widely accepted, people suddenly in a frenzy to find a cure, who was only achieved years later. However, there were people who found that to be absurd and tried to fight against the new order, consequentially exposing normal citizens to the disease.

30 years before Kita was born, the government started a campaign to rid the country of all communities who refused the Cure. That was called The Great Sanitation, and it was declared a complete success ever since that time. Pretty much all images and videos of that time would just show pilots waving at the cameras and bombs being dropped, in such a way that people could only feel safe. They were finally getting rid of this deadly disease for good, his teachers would say, as happy as they would get - not much.

Those pilots would fly over the dangerous communities, bombing them so nothing remained, only the communities who were verified by the government and Deliria free.

(Atsumu told Kita once that everything he learned for years was wrong.

As they both held hands, it was obviously that their society was far from being Deliria free. But there were things that he never really thought about, and the more Atsumu talked, more idiot he felt.

“Kita-san, what do you think happened to the people who were in these communities? Do you think they had the time of evacuating the children or the elderly?”

As he kept speaking - voice always low and careful, although they were alone at Kita’s bedroom and his grandmother was half deaf -, he destroyed what Kita learned for more than half of his life. He talked about his grandparents, who loved each other dearly, and managed to get away from the explosions - they were the minority. He talked about his parents, who met in a rebel camp, where both of them fell in love and eventually had the twins.

He also talked about the world before the Cure. Atsumu was way too blunt, so he talked about the bad things - which were many -, but as he talked about the good things, Kita finally understood how Atsumu could have hope. About a better world, about a world with love.)

Kita’s 18th birthday was getting closer. 

His evaluation results were already out for a while, but he was finally matched. As he expected, he would stay in Hyogo, being allowed to enroll his studies in the community college. As he also expected, and dreaded every time the thought crossed his mind, he was matched with a girl who lived 10 minutes away. Her name was Shiroma Hanae. She looked sweet, was also academically smart and her parents were the owners of the small coffee shop where Atsumu touched his arm that one time.

Atsumu was obviously reluctant of talking about things with Kita, he noticed. They didn’t talk about feelings, even though they were obvious from both parts. They didn’t talk about how sometimes Kita would flinch from his touch, as if his head was somewhere else. They didn’t talk about how Kita was supposed to get the Cure in less than two months.

(But maybe they should.)

It all became apparent when there was a illegal party, on a old abandoned farm, disguised from the rest of the town. Those parties were common, popular enough for Kita to know about them. Boys and girls would get together - which was already very illegal - and listen to banned music before they were subjected to the Cure. 

Atsumu would go sometimes, but he stopped after he got together with Kita. He knew that Osamu and Suna attended the parties frequently, but after being ignored so many times, he gave up on trying to warn them. He could only hope that Osamu was smart enough to detect trouble. 

That was apparently not the case, because on a regular wednesday evening, Atsumu was pounding at his door, face stained with tears. He was painting heavily, so it was obvious that he had run there.

“Osamu,” he croaked, cleary struggling to breathe, and Kita couldn’t say if it was because he was tired or because he was trying not to sob, “Shinsuke, please, I can’t do this alone.”

(Kita paused for a millisecond to consider everything. Atsumu didn’t bother to be discreet, so his neighbors were surely spying by now.

He could turn away from Atsumu. His grandma was already leaving her room, coming to the door to see what was happening. He could pretend that he had nothing to do with it. With rebels. With the twins. With Deliria.

For a millisecond, he wondered what life could be, with Shiroma Hanae. They could have a comfortable life and very beautiful children. He could grow old, probably working as a farmer, and when he was Cured, there would be nothing of his parents left.

But when he realized that there would be nothing of Atsumu as well, the answer became obvious.)

Kita shoved Atsumu into his house, thinking about what he could do to help. He knew that Osamu was in a party tonight, a big one, and by Atsumu’s reaction something had happened. They probably didn’t have the time to deliberate on it right now, but he trusted the younger boy way too much to back down now.

As he tried to organize his thoughts, his grandma suddenly was in front of him. For the first time in his life, Kita didn’t have a plan, didn’t know what to say to the only woman who actually took care of him in his entire life.

He had never thought about the possibility of his grandmother being immune to the Cure, like his parents were, because they were just too different. As she shook the car keys in front of his face, he had to face the reality that it was in their blood. Not the anger, not the abuse - Atsumu showed him, multiple times, that love wasn’t about that, after all -, but the capacity of risking everything for what he believed. For love.

For the first time in his life, he hugged his grandmother he felt exhilarated. He took the keys and as he was leaving to prepare the car, he saw his grandmother squeezing Atsumu’s hands, whispering quietly, like she _knew_.

Also for the first time, he realized that she lived in a world where there wasn’t Deliria. Only love. Of course she would be the one to see right through him.

It took less than two minutes for him to get ready, and Atsumu got in. It was already late, they were breaking curfew and most of his neighbors were not even trying to pretend they weren’t watching, the lights in some of the houses clearly on, curtains moving.

Atsumu had stopped crying, but only enough to tell Kita where they were supposed to go. And as his heart clenched, he went as fast as he could.

(The Amor Deliria Nervosa had stages, they said constantly. 

If a person got infected, they wouldn't be fully consumed in a single day. There were clear stages, taught almost religiously at school, from one to four: one being the beginning, what people in the dark days would call the ‘honeymoon stage’, not knowing any better, meanwhile stage four was where the disease was incurable, mostly resulting in death.

As Atsumu explained to his best ability what had happened and what they would need to do, Kita trusted him. They stopped in front of what seemed like a very dull and unsuspicious residence, but they knew better. Kita was ready to go out when Atsumu grabbed his hand, with much more strength than usual.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, clearly trying not to cry again. “You can say I mislead you, you can say that I threatened you, anything, but you don’t have to risk it all for me here.”

“Yes, I do,” Kita answered, knowing in that moment that he loved Miya Atsumu and nothing would ever change that.

And as they got in, Kita with a baseball bat and Atsumu with a goddamn gun in hand, he thought about everything he learned about the Deliria. About how death was only the possible outcome.

Maybe they were right. But the thing is, there wasn’t a place in those stupid books that explained that, for love, it was worth the risk.)

They did not have enough problem to go in, or finding Osamu.

Atsumu already knew what he was going to find, in theory. They had a friend disguised into the Regulators, and they were lucky that he was scheduled to go to that party.

Regulators were a special police. After the Cure, crime in Japan decreased heavily - most of them were ruled by emotions, after all. They still existed, but most of the funding would go to the regulators, which job was to take care of cases related to the Deliria. It was their job to keep society working, and they did this by any means they found necessary - for example, it was normal for people to have their houses randomly targeted and searched to ensure that they aren’t invalids or even sympathizers. 

Any violation could end in a person being arrested or even in execution - if this person was younger than 18, they could also be submitted to the Cure earlier. The parties, although they were quite normal for a regular teenager, were very illegal, so it was a risk people took when they choose to go. It wasn’t everyday that the regulators crashed a party, but it could happen. It did happen.

Osamu was taken to the house they were in right now, and was lying in a bed, clearly awake. There were two regulators inside the room alongside him, one of them being Aran - their ally - meanwhile the other was a real regulator, who seemed anxious to start beating the crap out of Osamu. They managed to get into the room without being noticed, and Kita could see how much it took from Atsumu for not to start shooting the man who was threatening his brother. Kita was faster, however, beating the guy in the head from behind - he was in his forties, so it only took one hit for him to pass out, but Kita did it twice just to be sure.

Before any of them could say anything, Aran pointed at the transmitters, who were probably recording everything and could serve as evidence against him. Atsumu was the one responsible for putting both of them in the ground and crushing it with his feet, meanwhile Kita was the one who got to Osamu first.

“Kita-san, I’m sorry,” he said, voice weak, and his eyes could have misguided Kita in the dim light, but Osamu’s voice was so tight that he it was obvious he was hurt, underneath his clothes at least.

That didn’t seemed to stop Atsumu as he hugged his brother with all he had. Kita knew that they were short on time, but he could let them do their thing for a minute. As he tried to stare anywhere else, Aran was looking at him, face serious.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you in better circumstances,” he said after a few seconds. “Atsumu talks a lot about you.”

“I do not,” Atsumu answered without missing a beat, voice teary.

“But I think you will have to finish the job,” Aran continued talking, as if he was used to Atsumu’s shenanigans. He was pointing at the baseball bat as he said this.

“Are you sure?” Kita asked, hesitating for the first time they got there. “Aren’t you coming with us?”

“I can’t,” the man shrugged. Atsumu told him in the car that they had the same age, but Aran looked much older. He had a fake scar behind his ear, a scar that every Cured person had, a scar that was like a social status. Kita thought immediately that he was too kind to be a part of such a sad scheme. “The rebels need me here. And the regulators need to believe I was taken down as well, or there will be questions.”

“Alright, then.” Kita could only agree, it was the smart move. “It was nice meeting you,” he said as he used his bat once again, not enough to knock him out but with strength enough that he would have an excuse, if he needed one.

After that, they left as quickly as they could, not having too much trouble - the house was abandoned, frequently used as a meeting point between other regulators - a place where they could torture possible invalids for information without any trouble. They were lucky to get there before other cops showed up.

As they got into the car, Osamu allowed himself to start crying, just like Atsumu did when he got into his house earlier. They were usually so different, despite being twins, that it came almost as a shock. Kita could not allow himself to dwell on it, knowing very well that there were more regulators coming for them.

Atsumu was in the back seat with Osamu, trying to calm him down as Osamu asked Kita and his own brother for forgiveness. After a few minutes, when Kita finally started to hear the siren at the street - and was that the sound of a helicopter? Were they fucking kidding? -, he raised his voice, so Osamu could listen to him.

“What about Suna?”

Osamu stopped in the same second, and for a moment, Kita expected the worst. But Osamu kept crying, now clearly in relief, even though the siren was getting louder.

(Osamu and Suna were together for almost two years. They were in a stable relationship - his parents were considered to be sympathizers, so it wasn’t really a taboo for him.

That night, they had a fight. They weren’t supposed to go to the party and it was such a stupid argument, but Suna was saying he would have a lot of fun without him that evening and Osamu left his house in anger.

He was still pissed when he got the call from Aran, warning him not to go to the party that night. Osamu didn’t even hesitate as he took his bike, not bothering to tell Atsumu not to worry him but telling Aran - just in case. It was for the best: as he got there, he could not yet see it, but he knew something was burning and he instantly knew that tonight’s regulators were more sadists than usual, and that they wouldn’t hesitate in burning to the ground a party filled with teenagers. 

As he got closer, looking for his lover, a lot of people were running away, and he was going in the opposite direction, trying to do the impossible. Maybe it was fate, but in the middle of the chaos, he found Suna, but he could see a cop running after him. He went to them, did his best in kicking the man to the ground, and took Suna’s hands.

“My bike is behind that tree. Go and do not look back, promise me this.” Suna was staring at him, tears in his eyes, but it felt like he couldn’t possibly know what to say. And he didn’t have time to think it through, as other regulator recognize him, probably because he knew Atsumu from somewhere. Dammit. “I love you very much. Please go.”

“Please come back to me,” Suna answered him, finally, putting a hand on his cheek for half a second before he started to run.

It didn’t took a very long time for the man to get to him, but at least he knew it was time enough for Suna to run away. As he was being pushed and kicked into the ground, at least he knew.

Suna would be able to get home that night. Suna was safe.)

Kita knew where they were headed even before Atsumu opened his mouth. Of course they were going to the fence.

Every single Verified Community was bordered by either a fence or a concrete wall to keep out rebels who could invade through the Wild. The government didn’t explicitly say this, but it was also implied that the fence existed to keep people in.

They managed to get close to the border seconds before the cars and the two helicopters could catch up. Kita was so high on adrenaline that it was only when he left the car that he could listen to the bullets. They were trying to shoot them. The cops were probably missing their targets for the same reason that Kita was able to drive for at least 20 minutes at full speed without crashing anything or anyone: it was a miracle.

Suddenly Atsumu was holding his hand. He knew they had to jump the fence - it was quite high, but the twins were clearly used to it and Kita could manage -, so he didn’t understand why Atsumu was wasting time.

“You go first with ‘Samu, alright? I’ll follow you.” Kita hesitated, but Osamu was dragging him, and it was only when they were on the other side, almost into the woods, that Osamu suddenly stopped. 

His ears felt like they were bleeding, not used to the loud noise of the sirens, and that’s why he probably didn’t noticed before.

Atsumu was still on the other side of the fence. Surrounded by at least a dozen regulators, all of them heavily armed. Osamu was now holding Atsumu’s gun, and he was screaming, but Kita could not understand what he was saying.

(“You son of a bitch,” Osamu screamed, absolutely feral, only not going back to rescue his brother because Kita was holding him with an iron grip. “You knew that one of us would have to stay behind or they would follow us, right?”)

There was someone with a megaphone, loud enough to be heard over the sirens. Was probably coming from one of the helicopters.

“Invalid,” they said, voice cold. The voice of someone Cured. “Ask your partners to return, or we will shoot. You have ten seconds. Nine. Eight…”

Atsumu turned to them, like he could see where they were in the complete darkness of the forest. Maybe his heart knew.

If he was crying, Kita wouldn’t be able to tell by his voice. Instead of asking for them to return, he screamed, voice certain: “Please go. I love you both so very much.”

Kita pushed Osamu into the woods before the countdown ended and the shooting began, so he wouldn’t be able to witness his twin brother’s death.

(Kita Shinsuke did not cry. 

Ever since his father hit him for the first time, and his mother later scolded him, saying him that crying would only make it worse, he never cried a tear again.

He did not cry when both of his parents committed suicide. 

He did not cry when his grandmother had a heart attack and was quickly sent to the hospital.

He did not cry when one of his old neighbors went insane, probably a side effect from the Cure. It was very late at night, and Kita knew long before Atsumu what kind of sounds a gun can make. The man killed his whole family and then himself. He had 2 young children.

He did not cry, even as Osamu was sobbing, like he lost his entire world. Maybe he did. He kept holding his hand, because Kita knew that it was the only thing that was keeping him standing in that moment. Osamu would not give up on Kita because Atsumu loves - loved - him. 

So, even as he cried, he kept walking. He obviously knew where he was going, and they kept walking nonstop. It was almost a full day later when they got to a open area within the forest, obviously populated. People came up to them, but after looking at Osamu, they stepped back, too afraid to ask the obvious question.

There was a big tent in the middle of the clearing, and Osamu was obviously taking him there. At that point Kita truly believed that he was running on autopilot, but he suddenly paused as two people left the tent, clearly curious to know what the fuss was about.

Osamu let go of his hand for the first time ever since the fence, racing to hug a woman who was clearly his mother.

He was now sobbing loudly, just like he did when he heard the shooting and tried to go back to save his brother. He was almost swallowing his mother, being much taller than her, and when his knees gave out, he brought her down to the ground with him, never letting go.

The couple was obviously confused, staring at their child and then at him, the unknown boy who was finally starting to shake.

“Where is Atsumu?” the man asked after a few seconds, voice strained.

As Osamu screamed, Kita broke as he fell to the ground, crying for the first time in almost forever.)


	2. Pandemonium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will talk a lot about the Book of Shhh, from the Delirium Trilogy. It's a real short book and the quotes come from there, written by the amazing Lauren Oliver.
> 
> Each chapter will be from a different POV, so the narrative will change a little bit. The dynamic on this chapter will be about SakuKita!
> 
> About the trigger warnings, this chapter will mention child abuse - not in the same way as the last one - and will briefly mention a brain tumor in the beggining, nothing too explicit.  
> I thought a lot about the tags - I don't want to spoiler a lot of the plot but also don't want anyone to get triggered - so if you think I should put something else there please let me know :)

_ An Invocation  
_

_ We keep this book; _ _   
_ _ in the hand of our heart; _ _   
_ _ may it grow heavy there. _

_ May our hearts pump   
the blood of science,  
principle; wisdom;  
may society grow strong on its blood. _

_ May this book hold you. _ _   
_ _ May its laws be your restraint;  _ _   
_ _ its lessons, a stick between your teeth; _ _   
_ _ and its comfort, a hand to touch you and say shhh.   
The worst is over now.  
_

_The Book of Shhh_ is a manual that describes the perils of Amor Deliria Nervosa. It stands for “Safety, Health, and Happiness handbook”. It is filled with rules, cautionary tales and anecdotes, being the religious bible that contributed to the well-being of their nation. It not only deliberates about Deliria, however - it broadly addresses every aspect of social, physical, mental, spiritual and political health.

It was recommended that the book should be read in its entirety every year. Sakusa Kiyoomi reads at least once a month.

It was not mandatory for him to do so. At least not anymore. It was suggested for families to make a habit of reading it once a week if they had young children. Sakusa’s parents forced him to read it everyday. And it was not like he minded - he was anxious, ever since a young age. It made sense with the life he had, the pressure on his shoulders ever since he was born, but it was a fact. And the book helped.

When he was nine years old, he already memorized every single word on those pages. He would still read it, though. To quote the handbook itself: “Sanity: Doing the same thing over and over again and enjoying consistent results.” It calmed his anxiety. It gave him a purpose. It made him feel safe, in a way that the world outside their house wasn’t for him.

Not until he got the Cure, at least. 

_"We must be constantly on guard against the Disease; the health of our nation, our people, our families, and our minds depends on constant vigilance."_ \- Basic Health Measures.

Sakusa couldn’t really tell when he noticed that everything in his life was a series of exceptions. For starters, he didn’t have a normal household. He lived with his father, his mother and his cousin, Komori, who he considered to be his older brother. Their house was big and isolated from the rest of the world, which he discovered later to be a sign of money. 

His parents were also not normal - or, to be more specific, his father wasn’t. He was the leader of the Deliria-Free Organization, or DFO, the biggest organization in the country. It was founded with the belief that everyone, including those under 18, should be cured, nevermind the risks. According to his father and his supporters, a world where people remained uncured was also a world where disease and disorder could run rampant. The DFO was not planning to stop protesting until Japan’s legislation made the Cure mandatory for everyone, regardless of age, and its followers were growing every single day.

Their whole family was active at the organization. His mother was a brilliant politician and Komori was the leader of the Youth Guard, leading the uncured members of the group until the position was handed to Sakusa himself, when he was 12 years old. Seven years ago.

The last - and maybe most important - exception was that death seemed to follow him. After the Cure, it was very rare for people to die due to crime or even regular diseases - after purging the Deliria, scientists found the cure for most illnesses, now that they could focus entirely on their research. Most people lived long and fulfilling lives, but that was not the case in his family. His brother died at a protest when he was 12 and his mother died from a tumor when he was 16. He wasn’t allowed to cry at any of their funerals.

He was 9 years old when he had his first seizure. He had a brain tumor, they found out when his father took him to the hospital, just as severe as the one who would eventually kill his mother. 

He survived.

It took him a dozen surgeries, a myriad of days at the hospital and a couple of false alarms, but when he was 18, he was finally declared cancer free for good. That was the good part.

The bad part was that, due to countless operations in his brain, it was considered to be almost impossible for him to receive the Cure. It was a simple and very quick procedure, but it still was an invasive one, and most doctors and scientists involved with his case refused to clear him to do the operation. It would probably kill him, they said.

He was almost 20 years old now. After years, he and his father managed to convince them to do the operation. It would be on his birthday, March 20, alongside with the biggest protest in favor of the DFO until that very day. Sakusa knew that he served as a martyr for the cause - a boy that was willing to die to be cured. If he could take the risk, so could others, his peers would say to him when they passed him by at college. He didn’t lead the Youth Guard anymore, but he would receive countless letters and even a few emails about how inspiring his will for the cause was.

At college, he was like a celebrity. He was already used to refusing others handshake attempts and ignoring the girls around him - he thought it would be harder, actually, but it wasn’t. Being in such a unique position, when he did his evaluations (of course, scoring a perfect 10) he was allowed to enroll in college, although he wasn’t cured and not even paired with someone yet. His father went to justice to give him the right to study, being the first uncured person allowed to go to university, and he wouldn’t be the one to embarrass him.

He met a few people who even thought that he didn’t need the cure. They would go to his father and praise him, claiming that he was raised with such perfection that there was a possibility that he could be naturally immune to Deliria. Neither of them were willing to take the chance, though.

Sakusa would survive, just like he survived the tumors and the surgeries. Just like he survived only having his father as a family member.

After the Incidents, he could not allow himself to be weak. It was his duty. It was an honor, to fight for a Deliria-Free country.

_"There is no love, only disorder."_

It was rare to see his father as anything less than 100% sure of himself, so it almost came as a shock to Sakusa to see him stressing over the protest as the day arrived. It was almost like the older man was afraid.

He couldn’t blame him if he was, he thought on his way there. He knew that he wasn’t really worried about his surgery - he knew the worth he had for his father - but about the savages.

It all started with The Incidents. They happened a year ago, a series of major coordinated and violent attacks on verified communities, including Tokyo, fully planned by Invalids and even sympathizers to ruin their hard work. Everyone knew that Invalids existed, but only after the attacks they were recognized officially, appointed as public enemies and - finally - started to be treated as they should: without mercy.

The Wilds were finally being bombed again. Those protests were already serious when they were small and uncoordinated, but this was another thing. The Resistance - as they would call themselves - was getting smarter, getting braver, and that’s why they could not be allowed to have the same opportunity again. People died, not only important politicians and officials, but innocent lives. Children.

A lot of damage could be done if those people decided to act again today. Sakusa was going to have a speech that evening, before going to the hospital and - finally - getting the cure or die trying. He was ready to die for the cause, ready to die if it meant being free from the Deliria forever, and he knew that he was feeling paranoid because of his anxiety, but he was afraid of dying before even having the chance to be cured.

(As he held to his handbook like a lifeline, he had to remind himself that he would not die like his cousin, his brother, his best and only friend. Lightning does not fall twice in the same place. He would be just fine.)

They were prepared for any possible outcome. They were prepared for a full attack from the Invalids, hence why there were a lot of security guards and even regulators present, at least three times more than a normal protest. The only ones that were allowed to sit near the podium were DFO members who received an invitation beforehand, those they could trust after a series of meetings. Hell, they were so prepared that Sakusa was making a speech in case he died.

He would be the first one to talk, right after his father’s introduction. After that he would leave immediately to have his surgery. If it was a success, his father would announce for thousands of strangers on that same day. If it wasn’t, his speech would still be fresh on their minds and his life would actually mean something. Whatever happened to him that day, the DFO could only grow, and that was the only thing easing his anxiety.

As his father called his name and people applauded, he ignored his instincts - telling him to run, to give up, because going outside meant _danger_ \- and left backstage, walking near the DFO supporters until he could reach the stairs to the stage.

It would not take him 30 seconds to get to the podium, walking by few of his father's supporters, but somehow, that’s where everything went to shit.

Months - years, in Sakusa’s case - of planning were thrown out of the window as a man, which Sakusa knew from his father’s meetings, stood up, apparently wanting to greet him. Sakusa could only stare in disgust, still holding his handbook, as Ukai Keishin got way too close. 

It was too late when he spotted the gun the other man was holding. 

Apparently he didn’t really want to kill him, because that would’ve been way too easy in their position. He was, however, thrown on the floor as Ukai raised his gun and shot a bullet into the sky. After that, it was utter and complete chaos. Sakusa would only remember flashes of it, later. 

He remembered being told to stay on the floor, a demand he ignored - he did not want to be crushed and he had to be in the hospital in half a hour. He remembered people losing control, which was rare after the Cure. He remembered a plan, a way that would lead him backstage, and having to use his height and size to go in between people and ignore the fallen chairs as he tried to get there. He remembered someone staring at him, way too close for his liking - his college classmate. Kita Satoshi. 

He remembered almost getting somewhere safe until he was hit with _something_ on his back. He remembered the panic of losing his vision and the inability to move, until he felt something heavy on top of him, something that felt suspiciously like another human being.

He remembered feeling selfish, as he hoped it was Kita, before he completely lost consciousness. 

_"Human beings, in their natural state, are unpredictable, erratic, and unhappy. It is only once their animal instincts are controlled that they can be responsible, dependable, and content."_

When he woke up, clearly hours later, he was sprawled on the ground of a _very_ dirt room. His torso was hurting as he tried to at least sit down, ignoring the absolute disgust he was feeling with that place. He didn’t know if he was grateful that they - whoever they were, the ones who attacked him from behind - didn’t aim for his head: if they did, he would be dead. Maybe that would be the better outcome, at least his body would be away from that filthy room.

He was probably saying a part of that outloud, loud enough to be heard through his mask, because a soft voice responded to his rant.

“It's not the cleanest place i've ever been, but don’t worry, you will survive.” Kita said, somewhere behind him.

Ah.

So his selfish wish became true.

He used his strength to stare properly at the other man. Kita was leaning against the wall, sitting with a perfect posture. He was probably waiting for him to wake up - or, at least, it seemed that he did, because he was playing with a half empty bottle of water and half a sandwich. Sakusa didn’t know if he would have the energy to get up and go to him, but Kita chose for both of them and got up himself.

“They brought you food a couple of hours ago.” he said, and Sakusa wondered once again for how long he slept. That room had no windows, only walls made of stones and a wooden door that looked ancient.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Sakusa asked, reaching out for the water first, grudgingly taking off his mask. 

“I honestly didn’t know if you were alive. If you didn’t wake up on your own in the next hours or your body started to smell, I was ready to eat your part.” His tone was light, but looking at him he could tell that Kita was dead serious.

It wasn’t like he had practice at reading Kita, though. He was one of his college classmates and a member of the DFO - a relatively new one, working for them only in the past two years. His contribution among the youngest members, however, was unmatched (losing to Sakusa alone), and his works at class were equally spotless. That was what granted him the invitation to sit in the VIP area of the protest, a ‘privilege’ that he was probably regretting by now.

After a few minutes in silence, Sakusa finally eating the suspicious sandwich, he felt a bit better. He managed to get up, happy to see a second door, which led him to a small bathroom - it was clearly not much, at least it meant they wouldn’t have to do their business in a bucket. After he left, Kita pointed to a corner, where their belongings were - in Sakusa’s case, his handbook, and in Kita’s, a backpack with a DFO diary, an umbrella and a dozen of cereal bars (“I left them untouched in case we need it later”). After thinking about it, Sakusa could only conclude that he was kidnapped by idiots. How stupid could you be to leave your prisoners with personal belongings?

He wondered if being outsmarted by idiots made him a complete imbecile, but he grabbed his book nonetheless. 

After another long silence - for the first time in forever, he wasn’t keen on reading the same words over and over again - he raised his head and saw Kita staring at him, not in panic like he was at the protest, but as if he was trying to read him.

“Won’t your family question where you are right now?” he asked, mildly curious. Kita didn’t stop staring, as he thought he would.

“They probably know something bad happened. But I think they’ll know that I’m fighting for a cause I believe, even if they don’t know where I am.” he was touching the scar behind his neck as he answered Sakusa. The mark of the Cure. The only thing missing that Sakusa was supposed to have right now if his life wasn’t a series of exceptions. “And your father?”

“He probably knows something by now,” Sakusa said, trying not to smile deprecatingly. “I can’t see a reason for invalids to kidnap me if it isn’t for money, or else they would’ve killed me on the spot.”

Kita’s face hardened as he thought about what Sakusa said. “Maybe they want to negotiate with the DFO?”

Only thinking about the situation made him, finally, let a small smile appear on his usually expressionless face. He thought about his father, about the possibility of him being diplomatic with savages. “Well, then good luck for them.”

_"Idle minds are Deliria’s playthings."_

The first night was the hardest. Tokyo was cold in march, and maybe they weren’t at the capital anymore but it was impossible for them to have traveled far. Kita had a thick sweater at his backpack, the one he was already wearing when Sakusa woke up, meanwhile Sakusa was stuck in that stupid suit. It was elegant, yes, but that didn’t matter if he was about to die from the cold. The stone walls offered some protection from the weather outside, but it was not enough.

He couldn’t even understand how he managed to sleep on the floor, shivering like he was really about to die. But as he woke up, questions about that fled from his mind, because his current concern is that he was very close to Kita. Closer than he was when he slept. Almost on top of the other boy.

He was still cold, but not shivering anymore. He felt quite hot, actually, and he could feel his face burning. Maybe he _was_ sick, after all, after surviving that situation.

He kept staring at Kita’s face. It reminded him of a few art classes that he was allowed to take, studying the history of a world before Amor Deliria Nervosa. They studied some sculptures, ancient ones, that were supposed to show the idealised perfection of a human being. It was the first time he was this close to his colleague, and after a few minutes he still hadn’t moved, only thinking about those goddamn statues.

At some point, Kita woke up and stared right back at him. It took an embarrassing number of minutes for him to notice. Neither of them moved, Kita’s face neutral as always and Sakusa wished he could say the same about his own but his cheeks were burning again.

(He briefly wondered if the reason he had never felt attracted to a woman really had something to do with his self control or maybe it was something else.)

They were interrupted by a man opening the door. He was dressed in black and looked as dirty as Sakusa felt after sleeping on the ground. He was probably in his thirties and Sakusa could only get this much before the man left, leaving behind a bottle of water and a sandwich, exactly like the day before.

Kita got up and started to stretch, in a way that looked like routine for him. Sakusa was glad that he wasn’t mentioning what the hell happened before, but he celebrated way too soon. “If you get cold at night,” Kita said not one minute later, “I don’t really mind if you get closer.”

And so he did.

Nothing really changed for a whole week. Sakusa thought he was metodic, but after a few days he started to lose track of time. His strategy was to rely on the moments that they received food, always from the same guy, who never directed a single word at them. They realized after a few days, however, that the man wasn’t consistent at all with his timing, sometimes appearing three times in a single day, always with the same sandwich and the same bottle of water, and sometimes refusing to show up at least once.

They only had a notion of how many days they spent there because of Kita’s discipline. As they talked - it wasn’t like there was anything else to do, at that point -, Kita told him that he was used to waking up at 6.a.m. and sleeping at 10 p.m., so his body was used to it. Sakusa also had his routine, but after listening to Kita, he felt he was on a whole other level.

The other man was captivating. His life was pretty ordinary, especially by Sakusa’s standards, but he talked with a confidence that was enviable. His voice was always calm, even as he mentioned delicate subjects. When asked about his family, Kita was clearly tense but he still answered him to the best of his ability. Sakusa knew the sentiment well enough, so after that they conveniently stopped talking about their families.

They talked about the DFO, but not as much as Sakusa expected. They used their time to talk about everything else: they shared childhood memories, talked about hobbies and, at some point, Sakusa started to tell fictional stories. They were way too elaborate, and he realized too late how suspicious he sounded as he talked about magic and friendship, but Kita always asked him to continue.

After a whole week there, Sakusa felt like a different person. He clearly lost some weight and was so dirty that not even a hundred baths would be able to clean him properly, but it was more than that.

He talked more in that seven days than he usually did in a month. Kita knew him more than anyone else outside his family now. He felt like he knew Kita, also, in a way that he was never interested in knowing anyone else. It reminded him of his relationship with Komori, once upon a time, but it was different in a way that he couldn’t quite express it yet.

They were friends. Sakusa didn’t know why those people were keeping Kita with him - he could understand why he was there, but Kita was, after all, just a regular college student. When he asked Kita about it, he just shrugged, like he wouldn't waste his time thinking about something he couldn't possibly know.

Which made him think about his anxiety. How, even in that deplorable situation, he was breathing better than any day in recent years. He was proud, feeling like he found a miracle way to control his mind.

But maybe it wasn’t him that was controlling it. Maybe it was the way that Kita would leave more food to him, thinking he wouldn’t notice. Or the way he lended him his backpack, saying that Sakusa could use it as a pillow to avoid hurting his head. Or even how Kita seemed interested in his stories, eyes focused in a way that Sakusa had never seen in a Cured person before, never questioning where they came from or even if they were government approved (they clearly weren’t). Maybe it was just Kita.

Regardless, he felt safe. 

So, of course, as day 8 arrived, their dynamics changed.

_"Through wind, and tempest, storm, and rain;_ _  
_ _The calm shall be buried inside of me;_ _  
_ _A warm stone, heavy and dry;_ _  
_ _The root, the source, a weapon against pain."_ \- Psalm 37

They were sleeping when someone entered their cell. Sakusa woke up first, and panic clouded his judgment when he saw that there were more than one person at the door. They clearly weren’t there to talk - that became apparent when two men jumped at him, trying to drag him out of the room. He tried to fight back, he really did, and he noticed that Kita tried to react too but they were both weak and tired so it was useless.

As he was carried out of their cell, he could hear Kita screaming, banging on the door. He quickly forgot all about it, though, because he was not being freed. On the contrary, it looked like he would be tortured.

He wasn’t, he thinks. But it wasn’t a fun experience either. They sat him in a chair, not even bothering to tie him, and started to ask questions. Maybe they would hurt him if he resisted, but he saw no reason for doing so. Many years ago, his father had prepared him for this kind of situation. He could talk freely about passwords and bank accounts, knowing that the DFO was always two steps ahead and for sure had already changed everything. When they asked him if his father had any secrets, he was as honest as possible, saying that if he did, he didn’t know a thing about them.

It looked like they believed him. Despite their rough act from earlier, it seemed that they weren’t too keen in hurting him physically, but one could never be too careful. He was proven correct when they left him alone for a long time, almost a whole day. Instead of thinking about how hungry he was, he decided to sleep while he could, still in the chair. It was weirdly more comfortable than the ground, but he still missed the warmth of another human being, which was odd.

The worst part of the whole ordeal was how they woke him up. He was dreaming, for the first time in a very long time, when he was abruptly awakened, this time by a bucket of water instead. He thought it was cold on that first day, but that was nothing: it was like every fiber in his body was screaming in pain, and he could only shake. The man in front of him was laughing, still holding the now empty bucket. “It seemed like you were in need of a shower, that’s all.” He stated, doing nothing as Sakusa shivered. 

“Apparently the passwords you gave us are legit, but they changed it recently” he was ranting, now finally doing something and getting him up, pulling him to his cell again. “My partners just checked, and believe me, we weren’t planning on doing this to you but your father is a complete son of a bitch, you knew that? The other guys were fully ready to negotiate for your boyfriend’s life, that’s why we didn’t touch him.”

He was barely processing the man’s speech, but that word rang on his brain. _Boyfriend_. It only made Sakusa shake harder (if that was even possible).

They finally got to the cell’s door, the man holding Sakusa lightly by the pulse as he searched for the keys. “You, however, good luck surviving the night on those clothes.” He opened the door as if he didn't have a single care in the world. Clearly his plan was to just push him in, not expecting any retaliation from Kita’s part.

So it probably came as a surprise when Kita greeted him at the door, with a knife that was the size of his forearm.

He could not process what was happening in front of him. He thought he saw blood, coming from the other man. He definitely felt Kita’s hands - so, so warm - on his waist as he got a hold of him. He held Sakusa with the greatest care in the world, taking him inside the cell one last time, as he kicked the body inside like it was nothing but a sack of garbage. He was whispering something in his ear, something that sounded like ‘ _you’ll be fine, don’t worry, I’m here_ ’ and at that point he couldn't be sure if he was projecting or even dreaming.

He only came to his senses when it seemed that Kita was about to take his clothes off. Holding the other man’s wrist, he started to understand the situation he was in. As if to explain himself, Kita gripped on Sakusa’s wet shirt tighter “We have to change your clothes, so you don’t get hypothermia.” It was like he was talking with a child, but maybe he could see that Sakusa was trembling because of something else now. “At least dry you a little bit, come on.”

Sakusa cooperated, not looking the other man in the eye as he helped to take his coat and shirt off. As Sakusa was getting rid of his pants, Kita was stealing the clothes of the - now - dead man at their feet and getting his knife back. Before he could put the new shirt on himself, however, he saw that Kita took off his own sweater for him to wear it. His eyes were screaming for him to take it, and Sakusa only did it because the other man didn’t say a word about his scars. 

“Now we’re leaving,” Kita said, voice firm. He was wearing his backpack, his knife at one hand and the other one extended for Sakusa to take it. “For good.”

He still felt strange, absolutely sure that he was forgetting to ask something important and not fully grasping the situation, but that was okay. He only needed to understand that Kita was getting them out of there. That was enough.

_ “It is better to have never loved _ __   
_ Than to have loved before the cure.” _ __   


It appeared to be the middle of the afternoon as they left that building behind without any trouble. It took them a while to figure it out how to leave, but they were apparently alone - Sakusa belatedly noticed that the other men were probably still out, checking the information he gave them. 

They were in an abandoned town and could’ve stayed in any house there, but Kita took him to the forest nearby. “If we’re near Tokyo,” confident in a way that Sakusa wasn’t at the moment, “we’ll find somewhere to stay.”

They walked for a few hours, Kita seemingly getting less and less confident as the time went by. He was also holding Sakusa’s hand way too tight, but Sakusa pretended it wasn’t his problem as he tried to bury himself in Kita’s sweater (even though it was clearly too tiny for him). It was already night when they stumbled upon an abandoned religious temple, almost like a miracle. They made themselves comfortable within minutes, finding a room that protected them from the cold. Kita wasn’t able to find any source of heat - that place was probably abandoned ever since the Deliria first started getting treated -, but he did find a futon and even some fabric they could use as blankets.

Kita told him he had a small fever. Sakusa only asked to sleep next to him instead of looking for another futon. Kita complied.

As they were getting ready to sleep, Sakusa contemplated about the Deliria. If being sick felt this good, maybe (just maybe) he could understand why those savages were holding into it so strongly.

Those thoughts kept occupying his mind in the following days. Kita left to find food and water because they couldn’t survive with only cereal bars - he always returned with something new, sometimes with fruits from the forest around them and sometimes with food and water that was clearly stolen, but Kita promised to stay safe and Sakusa trusted his word. With his time alone, Sakusa kept thinking about the new weight on his chest that had nothing to do with his anxiety, about Kita. About the _Deliria_.

He felt at war with himself. It was just a single week, but he was about to question every single belief he had. He stared at his handbook. Kita kept it, said it was clearly important to him so he wouldn’t leave it behind.

He questioned if it was really that important.

His head hurts.

Staying there was not helping in the slightest. He wanted to go home soon and receive the cure so things would make sense again (a traitorous part in his mind said otherwise, but he was quite used to ignoring his own needs) but Kita said that it was better for them to stay there. Apparently, he left a message somewhere and people were coming for them. Eventually.

That was this thing about Kita. Sakusa knew it was an unusual week for him, he felt dumb and weak and useless, but he was still good at reading people. He knew that the Kita that existed in the real world and the one he met were different people, he knew he was hiding things. He knew he showed way too much emotion for someone who was Cured. (He knew that, despite that, he would protect him anyway when they got back to the real world.)

They kept talking. Instead of talking about hobbies and telling fictional stories, they were finally being honest: Kita was born in Hyogo, but he forced his accent to disappear. His grandmother raised him for the most part of his life, because both his parents were dead. He didn’t miss them. He didn’t blink at Sakusa’s scars because he also had a couple of them. He is confident of his skills, believing that he could achieve anything if he put his mind into it. He doesn’t consider himself to be arrogant, however - “that’s just how the world works.”

Sakusa tried his best to answer. He never left Tokyo in his life. His father traveled a lot, but he had no interest in following him. He didn’t miss his mother, but he missed Komori everyday. He was diagnosed with anxiety when he was 14, but he didn't treat it, expecting it to go away when he received the Cure. He was able to hide it well, never letting it affect his job in the DFO or at school - he was not only competitive and proud by nature, but at his house anything less than perfect didn’t matter. He hated hospitals and sometimes got afraid his tumors would return, even though he knew it was a practically impossible scenario. He was a germaphobe, so that week he was pretending to be in a dream or he would have a complete meltdown. That didn’t stop him from feeling disgusting.

On their fourth night there, they were huddled together, both deciding to ignore that it wasn't cold anymore. Unlike Kita, he didn’t talk about his scars. Feeling reckless, he asked something even more dangerous:

“Have you ever caught it? The Deliria?”

Kita's eyes were piercing even in the dark. “Yes.” He was suddenly speechless. Kita took this as a signal to proceed on his own.

“I met him at my old high school. His name was Miya Atsumu.” Sakusa couldn't stare at Kita’s eyes anymore, but they were still close - too close. “He was a year younger than me and was new in town. Lived to annoy his twin brother. He couldn't be described as kind, but he was always kind to me. He was always unabashedly genuine. Always laughing too loud, cursing too intently, hoping too much. He tasted like freedom.”

Sakusa already knew why he was talking about Atsumu in the past, but the _Book_ was screaming at his ear even from across the room, asking him to ask anyway. “Why are you talking about him in past tense?”

“He died,” for the first time ever since they met each other, Kita’s voice sounded fragile. “Almost three years ago.”

They were still sitting next to each other. Their feet were casually touching under the improvised blankets, but Sakusa wasn’t warm anymore. He felt cold. _Of course_ he died. That was the final stage of the Deliria. Atsumu died and Sakusa would die as well, if he wasn’t careful. He asked another obvious question: “Are you Cured?”

“Never were. Never will.” His voice was steady again.

It suddenly felt like too much. “I need to go home.” He begged, knowing very well that home was anywhere else but his father’s mansion. Home was being under the blankets with Kita. 

He was laying down, now. Sakusa was able to see Kita’s small, sad smile before he kissed him on the forehead, where his moles were. Embarrassingly, his eyes were instantly filled with tears. “I know. I’ll get you there.”

_"If you’re not working for the cure, you’re part of the disease."_

That night felt endless. Sakusa was able to sleep for only a couple hours before nightmares clouded his mind and he woke up in Kita’s arms. He disentangled himself from the smaller man as he caught his handbook and looked for a balcony lit by the full moon.

_The Book of Shhh_ had 44 pages. When Kita woke up and found him, he had already read everything at least 6 times in a row. He didn’t comment on it, just announced he was going out. 

For the first time, Sakusa followed him.

The temple was located near a small river, which cut through the woods. That was how Kita was finding his way back. Sakusa stopped, sitting near the riverbank. Kita could already read him well enough to realize that he wasn’t getting up soon, so he asked for him to wait as he disappeared. 

He returned half an hour later, a personal record, but the damage was already done. Sakusa was no idiot, even if he wanted to throw himself into the river to clean himself up, that wasn't how he wanted to die. But he was aggressively scrubbing his hands ever since Kita left. 

They were almost raw by now. He stops feeling them in the first 10 minutes. 

Kita was clearly trying to give him space, but he held him by the waist until home when he noticed what he was repeating under his breath for this whole time: _‘Spotless hands, spotless hearts; disease roots only in darkness.’_

There were two men, probably about their age, waiting for them when they returned. Kita let go of Sakusa to greet them, hugging them tight. One of them clearly noticed Sakusa already and decided to ignore him, but it took the other one a few seconds. They locked eyes and his features, that looked relaxed after meeting his friend, suddenly showed disgust. “Kita-san, no offense, but are you fucking kidding?”

“Osamu,” Kita sighed, probably expecting the reaction. He then looked at his second friend, who was silent ever since he arrived. “Aran. This is Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“We know who he is,” Aran stated. Of course they did. He was the son of Sakusa Eizo, the one that would inherit the DFO one day.

“We are not taking him with us,” Osamu kept talking. He and Sakusa were staring at each other, none of them ready to back down. “I don’t know what could possibly have happened in less than two weeks, but I refuse. Aran may fall for it, but I won’t.”

“I don't intend to go with you” Sakusa answered him, speaking for the first time since the whole ordeal started. “I’m going home.”

He scoffed. “Of course you are.”

They only stopped when Kita stood between them. He was the smallest between all four of them, but his presence made up for it. Sakusa couldn't see Kita's face, but Osamu didn't seem to be giving in. Aran was further away, apparently not in the mood to interfere. “Osamu, drop it. We are leaving him at the capital and then we can go our way.”

Osamu was clearly not dropping it, ready to argue more, but before he could open his mouth Sakusa put his hand lightly on Kita’s shoulder. That shut him up, but now his glare was almost murderous. “Kita, it’s fine. I can stay behind, I can find my way to the city alone.”

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Kita’s agreement or even calm refusal, perhaps. But as Sakusa was touching him, he could feel his whole body tensing, not moving at all for a whole minute. Osamu's face suddenly softened up. Aran got closer.

Finally, Kita turned around to stare at him. His eyes were shining, filled with an emotion that Sakusa could not read, but it was overwhelming nonetheless. He poked him on the chest, all of a sudden, accusatory “We are not leaving _anyone_ behind, especially you. Do you understand?”

He didn’t, not really. He equally didn’t understand the way Osamu was now avoiding his gaze, but he felt like he shouldn’t ask. Kita went inside one last time, Osamu following him closely, and Sakusa stayed outside with Aran.

As they were waiting, Aran finally talked, voice kinder than before. “Are you two together?” It took everything in him not to visibly flinch. He said nothing, expecting their interaction to end there. It took way more time than they expected for Kita and Osamu to return, but when they did, Aran talked to him again. “Tell me where we should drop you off.”

The four of them left the temple, walking through the woods again for maybe 3 hours until they arrived at a small road. A decent car was parked there - a regulator's model, clearly stolen. Aran was driving, and Osamu left the back seat for Kita to sit with Sakusa alone. 

(If they were holding hands, both men decided to pretend they saw nothing.)

The trip was quiet. Kita asked Osamu and Aran a few things, but they were clearly not comfortable enough to talk about it in front of Sakusa. Osamu sometimes would stop looking ahead and turn to face Sakusa, staring at him just like he did in the woods. That happened for at least three times until Kita reprimanded him. At some point, Aran provided them with food - real food, not only fruits and sandwiches -, and Sakusa felt like he could cry. 

They left the woods before noon, but it was only when it started to get dark that Sakusa recognized the landscape outside his window. He told Kita as much. He then asked Aran to stop in a few blocks. He would have to walk for a few minutes until he reached his neighborhood, but it was the safest place for them to park, as it was completely isolated from the outside world.

When he got out of the car, Kita left with him. He, once again, gave him his handbook - he almost left it behind, again. Their hands didn’t touch. Sakusa didn’t ask him to stay safe, and Kita didn’t ask him to be healthy. They didn’t say goodbye.

It felt like something else should've happened, but it didn’t. Sakusa walked the familiar streets now - the darkness was comforting, but the silence that came with it felt overwhelming. He used the remaining time to get home to try to compose himself.

His father would be waiting for him, after all.

_"Distance makes the heart grow stronger."_

After a week at the mansion, it felt like everything that happened to him was nothing but a dream; everything went back to normal.

No, that was not true. 

But he was used to ignoring his own mind in favor of doing what he had to do. And what he needed to do was to move on. Move on from the Deliria. When he rubbed his body in the shower, immediately after getting home, he put extra strength, like the disease would leave the body alongside the dirt. (It didn’t.)

His father was calm, like he expected Sakusa to return eventually. When Sakusa inquired, he explained the situation in the most detached way possible: he was captured by mercenaries who had the sole objective of making money out of him. He was aware that his son was trapped with someone else, though, someone whose party was willing to pay for their safety, and didn’t waste any time before asking him what happened with him. Sakusa told him he died. His father didn’t ask when or how, just said: _‘Good’_. 

His surgery was rescheduled. He would not be returning to college for the time being, so his class would finish the semester without their two best students. After he was Cured, everything would officially go back to normal, and even as he tried to deny everything to himself, his mind kept screaming at him to do something. Just like it did when he was 12 years old.

There was a lot that Sakusa and Kita shared with each other on those 12 days. But there were a lot of things that they didn’t talk about. Kita didn’t talk about the rebels, about his real friends, about how he moved on from losing Atsumu. He didn’t talk about them - if it meant something to him, as it did for Sakusa. He didn’t talk about the future, what would happen if they met again, now as enemies instead of allies. 

Sakusa, on the other hand, didn’t talk about his family. He didn’t talk about how his father, how he was the one who almost beat him to death when he found out Sakusa was reading illegal books - he probably hit his head as well, because he had his first seizure hours later. He didn’t talk about his mother, who was the most religious person he has ever met, and wouldn’t let him eat or sleep if he hadn't finished reading the _Book of Shhh_. He didn’t talk about Komori, who died at a protest, but not in the way people imagine: he was protesting against the DFO, against the Cure, and when their - his - father had the chance of saving him, he told the regulators to shoot to kill. 

He felt like Kita understood some of this, without Sakusa having to talk about it. But it was different. Maybe he understood part of the reason why Sakusa had to return, but he could never understand it fully. And that was a good thing. He could at least admit to himself that Kita was someone important in his life, and he would never wish that life for anyone he cared about. 

He was trapped, once again. Inside the mansion and inside his own mind. On the outside world, there was always the looming presence of his father, the one he felt ever since he was a child, but now there was a voice in his mind, screaming at him that he could run away, fighting against everything he learned as truth for his entire life. Now he knew how life could be without that presence, without the fear of failure and pain. And he wouldn’t need a Cure to be free; on the contrary, he could only be free without a Cure. He was having an internal battle ever since he left the woods, the older parts of his conscience screaming at him that he was sick, he was compromised, he had the Deliria, he was _wrong_ about that. This part of his mind sounded a lot like his mother. 

(Meanwhile, the part of his mind that talked about freedom, about a world without the Cure, a life without fear, was as soothing as Komori’s voice once was.)

He was avoiding his handbook like the plague, ever since Kita gave it back to him. It was his mother’s, the only gift she ever gave him. It was probably very telling that he almost left it behind twice, but it always returned to him, somehow.

His surgery day was arriving. There wouldn’t be any complications now - no one to kidnap him, no one to try and fail to use him as a weapon against his father -, so that was really happening. He could either survive it and live alongside his father until the DFO was his to command or die, knowing that no one would cry for him. (There was a third option, oh so very tempting, oh so very wrong. He felt like Eve holding an apple, Pandora holding a closed box). On one particularly bad day, he gave up on trying to fight and took the _Book of Shhh_ to try and calm his restless mind.

One of the sections caught his attention. It was the one who talked specifically about the Deliria - about the signs, the symptoms and how there is no coming back from it. He took comfort from the new and old words, and when he closed the book, he was finally confident:

He knew what he wanted to do. And knew what he should do. It only took him a while to see that they were both the same thing.

_"When one door closes, another one opens. Close both, a storm is afoot."_

He planned everything thoroughly, minutely.

Three days before his surgery, that was the day he picked. Six hours ago, he fired the cook, said that he found hair in his food. He made a simple dish that would be enough for him and his father, who never bothered to talk to the employees. One hour ago, he told their maid that the hospital called, her son was in an accident and they needed her there.

Between those two events, he packed a backpack with food and water enough to last two weeks. He was also able to fit masks and gloves, hand sanitizer and the gun that was hidden in his father's room, along with ammunition. It was now resting at his feet, as he stared at the _Book of Shhh_ in front of him, perfectly placed on the floor. It was open on page 25, the one that made him decide weeks ago.

_Part IV: Amor Deliria Nervosa, the Disease and Its Progression_ , it used to say. Now, the whole page was taken by Kita’s perfect handwriting.

His real name was Kita Shinsuke. He apologized for ruining his handbook - _‘it is probably sacrilege, but I’m already a sinner’_ he wrote - but he would never forgive himself if he didn’t let a clue in case Sakusa wanted to meet him again.

_‘Osamu is staring at me like I’m insane. I probably am. I have Deliria, after all (that is not very encouraging, is it?). But I felt like I should tell you that the Cure is not the only answer. If that’s how you choose to live, I’ll support you, forever, even if we’re against each other one day. I understand it, even. Feelings can hurt. But they are, still, worth it._

_In the end, it’s your choice. If, however, you have doubts, please do not repress them. This is not about me, this is not about us. It is about you. If, even for a second, you think that Love is worth fighting for, you have me. If you decide against the Cure, against your family, you’ll always have another family in the woods._

_Regardless of your choice, I hope you are happy. Even if we do not meet again, you’ll be on my mind until the day I die.’_

Kita was wrong.

He could not have another family in the woods. If he was being serious, if, someday, those people accepted him, they would be his one and only family.

He lifted his backpack and left the book on the ground, just outside the fireplace, still open. He was standing in his living room, looking at the ground for at least 20 minutes. After taking a deep breath, he finally took the lighter that was hidden in his pocket.

He bent down one last time and lit the lighter on the end of the book. Burning or defacing the _Book of Shhh_ in any way is sacrilege, Kita was right. 

But Sakusa was already in Hell. He lived inside it for twenty years. Not waiting to see the book burn completely, he left through the front door.

(He knew that house like the back of his hand. The only times he ever hurt himself as a child was sinking his foot into the old wooden floor. That house was old and ready to burn to the ground.

Already outside, he only looked back once, to make sure the fire had already arrived in the garden. His father was sleeping on the second floor. And with the medicine that Sakusa put in his wine at dinner, he would continue to sleep as the fire spreaded and never wake up again.)

Behind Kita’s letter, there was an address. Sakusa wrote it down on a paper that was now in his back pocket, but from looking at it so much he had already memorized its content. He walked to his destination, first passing by the mansions of his neighbors and then eventually entering a poorer neighborhood. Rich or poor, Cured families slept without knowing that their unofficial leader was burning.

He walked calmly, knowing it was the first step of freedom. It was terrifying. Two regulators stopped him on the street, but looking closely they recognized them, letting him go on without further trouble - one of them even wishing good luck in his future surgery. Sakusa thanked him, glad that his mask hid his smile.

He arrived at his destination after a while. It was an isolated house, clearly abandoned, near the fence. According to Kita's instructions, he would find clues on where the Invalids were if he looked outside. It didn't take long for him to identify a door on the house’s backyard, clearly leading to a kind of basement.

The problem was: he wasn’t alone. He found the basement door easily only because a man who couldn't be older than him was coming out of it, a notebook in one hand and a flashlight in the other. He also had other people with him, two men leaving the basement after him, looking at Sakusa suspiciously.

The one carrying the notebook was apparently their leader. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him, in shock, now that he was close and Sakusa could see his face. If he really was the leader, though, Sakusa could pity them. He smiled at Sakusa - like a complete idiot - and asked him, as if they were in a casual situation: “Are you here to join the Invalids? Sorry, but I found the notebook first.” He didn't look sorry at all.

“Should you be telling strangers that you are joining the Invalids?” he was suddenly annoyed. Annoyed because that wasn't what he expected. Annoyed because the man's tone and posture were completely infuriating. Annoyed because that man looked just like Osamu, except for the yellow hair and two thin scars on his jaw. 

His mind formed a theory in seconds, a theory which was proved correct when he answered Sakusa: “You are no stranger, though. You are Sakusa Kiyoomi, the one person who I never thought that I would see running away from the Cure.” Well. He had a point, which left him more annoyed than before. “I would extend my hand, but I’ve studied the DFO enough to know that you wouldn’t take it so... hi! 

My name is Atsumu Miya. Very pleased to meet you, ally.”

**_[Two is controversy, three’s allowed.]_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! There was a reason I didn't use the Major Character Death tag hehe
> 
> This is being a pretty self indulgent experience, I'm not used to writing this much but, as I said before, I'll surely finish this - just not as fast as I want. Let's see if college will let me productive! 
> 
> Also if you want to talk to me about something you can always reach me on my twitter @oikawafinalboss <3

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm sorry???  
> I was not lying when I said they will have a happy ending, though, so please trust me!!!!)
> 
> There's still a lot to happen, I'll add more tags for future characters and maybe future side ships? I'm not really used to writing in english and this is my first chaptered fic - to be completely honest, I'm not 100% satisfied with it but if I didn't post it now, I guess I never would -, so if there's any mistakes please tell me! I promise I'll finish this.
> 
> If you want to talk more about the AU or anything else I'm always on my twitter @oikawafinalboss!!


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